


Project Q.U.E.E.N.

by merryghoul



Category: Q.U.E.E.N. - Janelle Monáe (Music Video)
Genre: Bandits & Outlaws, F/F, Museums, Partying, Pre-Canon, Rings, Secret Messages, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 15:20:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18919702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/pseuds/merryghoul
Summary: Sally and Dorothy thought Janelle’s request was a standard request for a couple of vinyl record orders.  It turned out to be more than that.





	Project Q.U.E.E.N.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weakinteraction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/gifts).



> For the purposes of this fic, I’ve given the two unnamed women that appear at the start of the video names. The woman in the black shirt in this fic is named “Sally Black,” and the woman in the white ying yang shirt is “Dorothy White.” (Both named after songs from _The Electric Lady:_ “Sally Ride” and “Dorothy Dandridge Eyes,” respectfully.)
> 
> This fic is also partially inspired by the liner notes for _The Archandroid_ and _The Electric Lady._ (This fic doesn’t require anyone to find said liner notes, however.)
> 
> This fic is mostly set before the action of this video; the fic’s coda is set just after the unnamed women subdue the security guards in the video.

The raw recordings appeared in an email addressed to Sally and Dorothy’s Mastering Services. Sally Black was used to various individuals and labels both big and small asking her to master their recording on vinyl. The major labels’ demands for various novelty records for Record Store Day surprisingly kept Sally and Dorothy’s Mastering Services afloat. The message read “Please master these recordings as soon as possible. Press one copy as a complete recording, and press the recording labeled ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ by itself. Save the recording of ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ for yourself. A messenger hawk will send you a message in a day’s time. This hawk will also pick up the recordings after they are mastered. Reply to this email after the recordings are done and destroy all evidence you made these recordings afterward. Sincerely, Janelle Monáe.” The files included in the email were labeled “Project Q.U.E.E.N. — Track 1,” Project Q.U.E.E.N. — Track 2,” and so on, except for one file labeled Project Q.U.E.E.N. — Q.U.E.E.N — PLEASE DUPLICATE.” And, per Sally and Dorothy’s payment policies for vinyl proofs, the payment was made upfront.

Sally called Dorothy White over to see the email. Sally shook her head and kissed Dorothy on her lips. “Isn’t this the weirdest email you read, girl?”

Dorothy laughed. “A messenger _hawk._ Uh-huh. Probably gonna have a delivery man send us a message and pick up those records.”

“Well, this Janelle gave us a payment, and she wants it now. The guy that wants that special Jimi Hendrix record for Record Store Day can wait. Thank God we didn’t start the master plates for that yet. Shouldn’t take long. Let’s go, babe.”

 

Sally wasn’t even done mastering Track 1 for vinyl when the messenger hawk came. The hawk, a zone-tailed hawk that appeared to be mostly black until it spread its black and white wings out, was polite. It flew up to the doorbell of the mastering facility and rang the doorbell. It flew down to the stoop of the mastering facility. 

Dorothy answered the door. She was flabbergasted at the hawk on the stoop. The message from Janelle, rolled up like a scroll, was around the hawk’s neck. Dorothy untied the message from the hawk’s neck and started reading the message. The hawk flew away. 

“Sorry for the hurried email,” the message from Janelle read. “My name is Janelle Monáe. I’m from the year 2719. I was kidnapped in that time. My genetic profile was stolen and used to create an android known as Cindi Mayweather. Meanwhile, I was sent back to the past. I spent my days at the Palace of the Dogs Arts Asylum, figuring out a way to get out. But I escaped and now I’m on the run with other time-traveling renegades. I communicate in many ways, and this is one of them.

“The works you are mastering are the words of Cindi Mayweather. Our connection allows us to communicate with each other. But I can’t reveal anything else about Cindi, not through this message. It’s too dangerous. I will send you an additional message through dream courier. Sincerely, Janelle Monáe.” 

 

Sally looked at Janelle’s message, then at Dorothy. “So you’re saying there was a hawk with a message tied around its neck on our stoop, and this was the message.”

“Everything I’m telling you is true, Sal.”

“Let’s resolve to not talk about this after this is over. I have a feeling this would land us in the gossip blogs. Last thing I want happening to me is someone stopping me at the airport thinking I’m in some cult or something.” Sally did a double take at Dorothy. “A _dream courier?_ ”

 

Dorothy had finished making the stamper plates for the files labeled “Project Q.U.E.E.N.” as well as the song labeled “Q.U.E.E.N.” when Sally opened the door to the room where Dorothy manufactured test runs of records. Typically Sally would optimize the songs for vinyl before Dorothy went through the process of making stamper plates for trial vinyl pressing runs. If the records were made to Sally, Dorothy, and their clients’ liking, the stamper plates would be shipped elsewhere to mass produce vinyl records. But since Janelle’s request was out of the ordinary, Dorothy was going to destroy the stamper plates when both requests were pressed.

“Bad news, Dorothy. The DJ that wanted the white vinyl records changed his order. He doesn’t want them on white vinyl. He wants them on standard black now.”

“You gotta be kidding me. I bought all that white vinyl dye for nothing. What am I gonna use it with? It’s going to sit around here for years.“

“Use it with Janelle’s order. I mean, we don’t know her, but I guess she wouldn’t mind a couple of white vinyl records.”

Dorothy nodded. “You’re right, Sal. At least the guy didn’t cancel before I made the test printings.”

 

Sally emailed Janelle to tell her the recordings were made and that they also pressed a copy of “Q.U.E.E.N.” for themselves. The next day, the messenger hawk rang the mastering service’s doorbell and waited on the stoop for “Project Q.U.E.E.N.” In one of its claws was a small box, wrapped in brown paper. Around its neck was another scroll.

When Dorothy showed up with the white vinyl record, wrapped in a vinyl sleeve and placed in a thin delivery box, the hawk hopped towards Dorothy and gave her the box. She untied the scroll and gave the messenger hawk the record. Once the hawk received the record, the hawk flew away.

“What’s inside looks like it’s for one person,” this message read. “But it has the power to transport two. If you need it, tell it a location and it will get you there. Any moment in time, anywhere in space—if it’s real, it’ll get you there. Sincerely, Janelle Monáe.”

Dorothy opened the package. Inside was a ring box. One side of the ring box was black; the other, white. Inside the ring box was a big diamond-looking ring. 

 

Dorothy later handed Sally the ring in the recording studio where Sally mastered tracks for vinyl. “Janelle’s ring is a bit too small for me. Maybe it’ll fit on your finger.”

Sally put on the ring. Indeed, the ring was large enough to fit Sally’s finger. “Okay. So if I say I want to be in the manufacturing room in our building right now, that means—“

Sally disappeared. Dorothy ran to the manufacturing room. Sally was inside it. Sally shrugged. “It works, Dorothy. What else can I say?”

 

Janelle said her next message would be through dream courier. Sally and Dorothy didn’t expect to actually see Janelle. Janelle was wearing a white outfit that looked like a combination of a dress and a jumpsuit. A red sash, made up of rope, hung over her right shoulder. She wore something like a long tuxedo jacket, but it wasn’t actually one. She stood in front of Sally and Dorothy, who were sharing the same dream together, in black riding boots. Another woman stood in front of Sally and Dorothy.

“I’m Janelle Monáe. Which one of you is Sally and which one of you is Dorothy?”

“I’m Sally.” Sally pointed to Dorothy. “This is Dorothy, my partner of four years. I mean, we’ve been romantically together for four years, but we’ve been running our business for six.”

“Aww. Y’all cute. This is my associate Badoula Oblongata.”

“Hey, y’all.” Badoula Oblongata looked around. “I’m coming back. I have to find my dog. Damn Time Council has my dog on the run too.” She disappeared.

“I would love to meet you in the flesh, but meeting in dreams is the safest way for us to meet now. The Metropolis Time Council is after us, as well as some of my fellow time travelers.”

“Janelle, girl, you’re gonna have to explain that,” Dorothy said. “We’re not from your time.”

“I’m from the city of Metropolis in the future. There, we have a Ministry of Droids, who are in charge of all things android where I’m from. They seek to control every android and they punish those who refuse to conform. The Time Council is a department in the Ministry of Droids. They go after people who are a threat to Metropolis in any point in time.”

“And you and your friends are threats,” Dorothy said.

“Correct. But that’s not the only reason why I’m here. I wanted to explain to you the purpose of these recordings I trusted you to press for me. In Metropolis, there is a secret society known as the Great Divide. They seek to separate us—not just the people of Metropolis, but all sorts of people throughout the ages—by music, by human and android, by race and sexuality and creed. Cindi’s story is a threat to the Great Divide because it’s intertwined with her love for Sir Anthony Greendown. And Cindi’s story is a threat to the Great Divide because it has a battle plan. Cindi’s battle plan hopes to unite everyone in Metropolis. And once everyone in Metropolis is united, Cindi will lead them to defeat the Great Divide once and for all.”

“Shit,” Sally said. “I hope Cindi succeeds some day. About the records, though. Why did we press one song for ourselves while we pressed the other tracks on vinyl?”

“The Time Council has found a way to stop us moving through time.” Badoula Oblongata came back with her dog, a standard-size white poodle, who was on a leash. “They have a device. I don’t know the name of it, but it doesn’t matter. The device freezes you in place and makes you forget who you are. And I heard they’re displaying anyone rebelling against them in a museum.”

“They’re gloating because they think they have the victory against people like Badoula Oblongata and myself. But they also know their time will be up in the future, and that we will prevail. And it’s because of people like you. That’s what the ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ recording is for. I know the Time Council acquired a turntable from my fellow time rebels Deep Cotton. The record spins on a white cylinder, and the tone arm is a replica of a human skull. The needle is in a gold tooth on the skull. I know the record player still functions, but the Time Council and the Ministry of Droids don’t know that. That suspended motion device can’t stop physical things. And it can’t stop music.

“Which brings me back to the records. The Project Q.U.E.E.N. recordings were sent to a dear friend of mine, Max Stellings, the director of the Palace of the Dogs Arts Asylum. It’s through Max that people throughout time and space can hear Cindi’s music. And it’s because of you two I was able to give Max my recordings. I used to make my recordings in the Palace of the Dogs’ Musiquarium. I didn’t have to outsource the production of my recordings. But now that I’m on the run, I have to. Thank you for taking me seriously. A lot of people from your time read my words and assume I have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“You paid us. We had to take you seriously,” Sally said.

“But where does our ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ record come in?” Dorothy asked.

“If we’re ever captured by the Time Council, bring your copy of ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ with you. That song has a special key that can be used to revive us if we’re ever caught in a moment of suspended animation. It works on Badoula Oblongata and me.”

“I mean, we both sing on the song,” Badoula Oblongata added.

“And not only does the song work on me, the song works on several of my fellow time rebels as well.”

“You cool with the white vinyl records, Janelle?”

“Of course, Dorothy. I have a fondness for black and white.” Janelle pulled on her sash. “And sometimes I like a bit of red, too.”

Two men in tuxedoes appeared in the dream. They looked worried, and said nothing to the others in the dream.

Janelle pointed to the men in tuxedos. “That’s Deep Cotton,” Janelle said to Sally and Dorothy. “I wish you could’ve met them and the rest of Wondaland, but they’re telling is it’s time to go. The Time Council is on the move, and if they catch us here, they might catch you here too. And you two might not wake up.”

Janelle, Badoula Oblongata, and Badoula Oblongata’s poodle ran after Deep Cotton. Shortly after that, the dream ended.

 

A couple of days later, Sally and Dorothy went to bed, Dorothy’s arms around Sally’s body. They shared the same dream again.

On a table were two documents. One was a layout of one floor of a building known as “The Living Museum.” The layout was simple: one room housed Badoula Oblongata, her poodle, and her associates. The other room, the bigger room, housed other things on “exhibition.” There was a drum set and two dancers. Other items on white pedestals, including, but not limited to, a pair of saddle shoes and Deep Cotton’s turntable. Another pedestal, with a monitor; the map labeled this as “M.O.D. Host.” Deep Cotton themselves, encased in a plexiglass box. And Janelle, sitting at a table. The security for the exhibit were near the Ministry of Droids host. The other document was a note reading “Please help!” Enclosed was the address and year the message was sent from. The message was from Janelle.

After the two of them examined the documents in the dream, the two woke up. The two of them threw on jeans, shoes, and shirts. Sally threw on a black shirt. Dorothy threw on a white shirt with a ying yang symbol on it.

After she was dressed, Dorothy shook her head and sighed. “What are we going to use on the security guards?”

Sally put on Janelle’s time-traveling ring. “Don’t you have duct tape?”

“I have a few rolls in the manufacturing room.”

“I’ll grab a bag and the ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ record. You get the duct tape.”

“Got it.”

Sally grabbed the ‘Q.U.E.E.N.’ record in and put it a messenger bag. The duct tape rolls went in the bag as well when Dorothy secured them. Sally and Dorothy hugged each other and gave a peck on the lips.

“I guess I’ll talk up one of the security guards when we get there,” Dorothy said. “You’re fast enough to put the record on the turntable.”

“And fast enough to pop one of those guards somewhere on their bodies.” Sally said the address left in Janelle’s message to the ring. “Let’s go.”

 

It felt like people were coming out of nowhere when the “Q.U.E.E.N” recording started to play. There were only a few people earlier observing the Living Museum exhibit. They were moving the pedestals and everything else out of the way to dance. On the other hand, Sally and Dorothy were dragging the security guards to the room which once held Badoula Oblongata, her poodle, and her associates. 

“Would be nice if someone helped us,” Sally said, dragging one of the guards by his armpits.

A man who had picked up the monitor with the welcome message to the Living Museum’s exhibit overheard Sally. He threw the monitor. It broke somewhere else in the museum. “Yo, they need help!” the man said. Another man came, seemly out of nowhere, and helped Dorothy with her security guard. The man who threw the monitor helped Sally. All of them threw the guards in the former Badoula Oblongata room.

Sally also put her now-empty messenger bag in the room, and specifically on top of one of the security guard’s heads.

Dorothy looked at Sally. “Girl, we out here. May as well wait until the floor clears out so we can dance.”

“May as well.” Sally grabbed Dorothy’s hand and the two of them backed into a group of dancers waiting to dance to “Q.U.E.E.N.” once the Living Museum’s stolen exhibition pieces and pedestals were out the way.


End file.
